Bait and Switch
by makesometime
Summary: Inspired by a prompt at the Terra Nova fanfic community over at LJ, missing scene from The Runaway. Rated M to be safe.


A/N: Inspired by the prompt: "After Wash dropped off Leah, she's on her way home but Taylor intercepts her. He's more aggressive than usual and it takes her a moment to figure out why: He's offering her a way to let off steam, to get rid of that anger that's simmering under the surface for being caught off-guard by the Sixers."

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><p>She's done her duty tonight, leaving Leah in the much more capable hands of the Shannon family and that means Alicia Washington can make her way home for the evening.<p>

Halfway back to her quarters she picks up the sound of boots on a parallel pathway and knows the rhythm of steps instantly. She could switch up her route to miss intercepting him but there's no point, if she knows he's there then he definitely knows she is too.

He joins her where the paths merge with a quiet, "You doing okay?"

"Just tired sir." She admits, continuing on her route.

"Yeah, I'm not surprised. Letting yourself get beat up by a bunch of civilians can do that to a person."

She stops dead in the middle of the path. "Excuse me?"

He shrugs. "Hell of a knock to the pride."

"My pride is fine, sir." She replies, voice little more than a growl as she continues on her way, wondering what on earth is wrong with him. She must be more tired than she thinks - maybe this is some weird apparition of Taylor, and she's actually having a conversation with herself in the middle of the colony.

Stranger things have happened.

"I thought you said you'd never lie to me Lieutenant?" He badgers, keeping up with her brisk pace.

"I'm not lying!" She snaps and doesn't even feel guilty about it.

"You're telling me that being bested by the Sixers isn't just eating you up inside?" He pushes and when she spots her home around the corner it's almost a relief - she never thought she'd feel so happy at the prospect of being out of Nathaniel Taylor's company.

They walk in silence for a moment, Alicia seething and forcing her hands in her pockets so that she doesn't do something stupid like assault her CO. "If it's all the same to you sir, I think I'd like to be alone." She says as she mounts the steps to her front porch.

"That's right, run away from the problem." He calls after her. "Always helps."

#

She ignores him and starts to unlock her door but he's behind her in an instant.

He grabs her bicep to turn her back around then he's kissing her and I_oh/I_ how could she have been so stupid not to see what he was doing? Baiting her, drawing her frustrations out as he'd done so many times before. Completely oblivious, she'd apparently left him only one choice.

He pulls away, searching her face for a reaction but she doesn't give him time to regret it. Her hand moves to the back of his head and pulls him back to her, mouths colliding with enough force to split her lip open again.

She doesn't let him pull away at her whimper of pain, her free hand coming to fist in the back of his t-shirt and keep him close. The blood from her lip covers both of theirs and she can taste it, isn't repulsed by it and wonders what that says about her.

#

It's a struggle to make it to her bedroom. They've stopped three times before they clear the main living area - he has her pushed up against the fridge before she can even flip the lights on, she returns the favour against the central island then forces him down on the arm of her sofa to get a height advantage.

She's not even sure the front door shut properly behind them - she hopes if anyone comes to check on her they enjoy the show because she sure as hell isn't stopping now.

#

He fights her every move. Some kind of logic dictates to him that she wouldn't want to be passive after what she's been through, yet he could never be submissive, even with her. She finds she revels in it, this experience somehow being exactly what she needs.

He stands up from the sofa and walks her backwards into the wall, forcibly removing her hands from him to push her jacket off and pull her top over her head. Before he can even drop it on the floor she has the hem of his in her hands but his refusal to stop kissing her newly-uncovered skin means she abandons her attempt and settles instead for running her hands over his bare torso. She catalogues the scars there, most of which she had a hand in healing.

#

When she finally gets his top off her hands fly to his belt before he can respond with another piece of her own clothing. She flips their positions with a quick shunt of her hips and hands and he groans at the contact.

She dips her head to bite at his exposed shoulder; finds he likes that and does it again. Leaving his belt and zipper unfastened she runs her hands around to scratch her nails across his back; curses the shortness of his hair from preventing her getting a good hold as he winds his hand in hers and tugs her head back to expose her neck to his mouth.

"Bedroom." He murmurs against her skin and the word send shivers straight down her spine. She considers refusing him and knows he can tell. In response he sucks at the nape of her neck until she's gasping, clutching at his arms to hold herself up. "I'm not as young as I used to be Wash." He adds, making her grin as she takes his hand and leads him down the hall.

#

They fight once they finally make it to the bed too, any tension eased by his earlier words instantly returning when they cross the threshold of her room. She tries to push him down onto the soft surface but he's ready for her this time and hooks a leg around hers to make her topple onto her back beneath him.

They trade dominance several times during the removal of the rest of their clothing but ultimately she allows him to settle over her, letting the moment of voluntary submission erase every bad memory of the day.

#

They lie side-by-side in her bed afterwards, barely touching as they catch their breath. He won't ask to stay but she won't ask him to leave. They've slept like this before, in separate sleeping bags in shared tents on missions, but never in the same bed. Not that it makes much difference - in the morning she will be spooned up against him or curled at his side, head pillowed on his chest. This is a fact she knows from experience.

"Better?" He asks and she can't help but laugh, proper deep belly laughs that make her overworked muscles ache.

"Yes, thank you."

He inclines his head in recognition and then turns his gaze back on the ceiling.

Alicia runs her tongue along her bottom lip and winces at the sting as it meets her wound. "I better go see Doc Shannon in the morning."

She feels Nathaniel tense beside her and wonders what she's said. "I thought you… aren't you on something?"

"Oh my god!" Alicia says, laughing as she turns onto her side and props her head up on her arm. "Yes! Sorry, I meant about my lip."

His look of relief makes her chuckle again and he scowls playfully at her. "How exactly are you going to tell her it happened?"

Alicia looks thoughtful for a second. "I might leave out the bit about kissing my CO so hard it split open again."

He grins and wets his thumb before wiping away some dried blood from her chin. "Good plan."

She watches him quietly for several moments, mapping his relaxed expression to her memory. She holds no illusions about this becoming a regular thing, and intends to remember as much of the night as possible. He watches her right back and she feels strangely content to let him - normally she would feel uncomfortable to be under such scrutiny but things are always different for her when it comes to Nathaniel Taylor.

"Come here." He says, breaking their companionable silence and lifting his arm in invitation to her.

She smiles and doesn't even hesitate to settle up against him. His arm tucks around her, holding her against him as he presses a kiss to the top of her head. She senses him feeling around on the wall above her bed for the power switch, the same one all senior officers have that controls all lighting throughout their homes in case of emergency. Once he finds it they're plunged into darkness and she can't help the little sigh of happiness that passes her lips as she tightens her arm over his stomach.

The last words she hears before she falls into slumber send her off with a smile on her face.

"Sleep well, Wash. You deserve it."

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><p>This is a bit of a departure for me, in both rating and writing style. Honest opinions are very, very welcome.<p> 


End file.
